


A Laughable Umbrella

by Riley_Sivertsen



Series: random tma fics in the same canon-ish universe [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Everyone is upset in this fic but it gets better, Gen, Good Friend Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist is Bad at Feelings, Laughable Umbrella, M/M, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Other, POV Alternating, Pining Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sad Martin Blackwood, Sharing an umbrella, Trans Martin Blackwood, at least i think it is, i have no idea how to tag this, neither are mentioned but its important you know, ok my tags got moved around so they dont make much sense now but ok, the laughable umbrella, umbrella before it got pathetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riley_Sivertsen/pseuds/Riley_Sivertsen
Summary: Objects are witnesses. There on the sidelines of our memories, hovering on the edges of important moments. We barely notice them; they are only set dressing, part of the scenery. But that doesn't mean they weren't there. Witnessing.Before it became a useless thing for the eyepocalypse to mock and belittle, the umbrella was a witness of moments. These are some of those moments.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: random tma fics in the same canon-ish universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037412
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	A Laughable Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> me, listening to Epoch again: WHAT IF IT WAS THEIR UMBRELLA  
> And then I had to write it because of course I did.
> 
> This takes place in the same canon compliant TMA universe as "For You", but you don't necessarily have to read that one for this to make sense,

Tim stopped on the front steps of the Magnus Institute as the door closed behind him. The rain was even worse than it had been this morning.

Tim thanked his past self for planning ahead, opened the bright yellow umbrella and stepped out into the deluge. He made it halfway to the car before he caught sight of something familiar at the nearby bus stop.

He was amazed he could to see anything at all in this weather, but it was hard not to recognize the vibrant blue coat hugging the shape of Martin. Still, Tim was surprised. Martin left almost fifteen minutes ago, saying he had to run to catch the bus.

Yet there he stood in the rain, staring at the bus schedule with wide eyes like it had played an evil prank on him.

Today had been their first day working in the archives under Jon’s supervision. Tim hadn’t had much of a chance to chat with Martin, but from what he _had_ seen, he was a good guy. Shy, timid, anxious as all hell, but sweet. He’d been so grateful after Tim helped him out with the dog debacle, kept bringing him cups of tea for the rest of the day, muttering “thanks again” with a small smile every time.

Tim couldn’t just get in his car and leave Martin standing there without checking on him. He made a sharp turn towards the small path separating the parking lot from the bus stop on the main road.

“Alright, Martin?”

The man in question jumped at the sound of his name. “Oh! Tim, sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Good to know my spymaster classes are paying off.” Tim grinned, and his gaze flickered towards the time table over Martin’s shoulder. “Didn’t miss the bus, did you?”

Martin’s cheeks turned red – not for the first time that day – and he chuckled sheepishly. “Oh, not exactly, uh…Apparently some construction work started somewhere along this route so it’s been redirected? I can still catch a bus from that other stop at the big Tesco but, well…” He trailed off.

“Aha, I see.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Psyching yourself up for making the walk in this delightful weather?”

Martin shrugged. “Sort of, yeah? This morning I made it outside before I realized it was raining, and I didn’t want to risk being late my first day so I didn’t go back in for my raincoat or anything. It’s my own fault, really. Nothing to be done about it now.”

Tim felt a pang of sympathy – again, not for the first time – and gave Martin his best encouraging smile. “Would it make your life easier if I gave you my umbrella? That way you might not actually drown and I get to work with you for more than one day.”

“Oh, no, Tim, I don’t want to put you out–”

Tim held up a hand to stop Martin’s protest. “Listen, I literally only brought this because my hair looked too good to be wrecked in the space between my car and the Institute. Trust me; it’s pure shallowness. Besides, I’ve got about a hundred more at home. I’m sure this umbrella would be much happier with someone who actually needs it.”

Martin glanced skeptically between Tim and the umbrella. “Are you sure?”

“My car is barely a ten second sprint from here,” Tim assured him. “And I’m going straight home anyway, not anywhere I need to impress anyone.”

He winked, and Martin chuckled again, his face turning even more red. It was adorable. Tim held out the umbrella.

“Come on,” he teased. “If you accept, I get to feel like a knight in shining armour. You’re basically doing _me_ a favour.”

Martin laughed outright at that and shook his head. “You’re already a knight in shining armour for helping with the dog and putting up with all my questions. But if accepting one more gallant display will make you feel better…Fine. I’ll take the umbrella.”

Tim's smile widened with delight. “Excellent! Working with you is going to be a huge boost to my ego.”

Martin’s smile fell slightly, and Tim could practically hear the re-run of all the little ways Martin had subtly put himself down all day, mumbling apologies when he asked for help and hinting that they shouldn’t have to put up with him.

Tim really _did_ like Martin; he wanted him to feel comfortable working together. He made a note to work on boosting Martin’s confidence.

He shoved the umbrella into Martin’s waiting hand and wished him a safe journey, before he took off sprinting through the rain to his car. When he pulled out onto the road and passed Martin walking under the yellow shield, he honked. It earned him a wave.

The two of them were going to get along splendidly, Tim decided.

Now if only he could get Jon to stop being such a grouch to the man.

*

Martin was sat at the bus stop, still trying to calm down, when he looked up in time to see Jon exit the Institute and jerk to a halt on the steps. The man glared at the water that had the audacity to fall from the sky.

It wasn’t fair, really, that Martin should feel instantly bad for him. Jon was the reason Martin spent the last thirty minutes of the work day hiding in the bathroom trying to get his anxiety attack under control enough to stabilize his breathing and shaking.

The strange conversation they had…It didn’t matter that Jon had relaxed by the end of it; there had been shouting, accusations, the horrible realization that Jon had seen the letter Martin tried writing to his mum, and not to mention the reveal of a secret that had been eating Martin alive since he started working at the Institute.

Jon said he was _relieved_ to find out what Martin was hiding.

Relieved.

Martin supposed he should be feeling that, too, knowing he didn’t have to lie to Jon anymore, but he couldn't yet. He’d been so worried, so afraid of what might happen if his lie was exposed. It ate at him every single day.

To have it brought to light like that, with Jon so aggressive…It unravelled Martin’s already fragile state of mind rather impressively.

And now there was Jon, looking more forlorn by the second as he stared up at the dark clouds, and Martin had already started moving towards him.

It was pathetic, really. Martin’s crush had only grown after everything that happened with Prentiss. By now it was dangerously close to…well, it didn’t matter. Not like anything would come of it. Still, that didn’t stop Martin’s frustration with himself, knowing that no matter how upset Jon made him earlier, he would still try to take care of him.

That’s just what Martin did.

“Oh! Martin.” Jon looked at him in surprise. “I thought you went home already.”

“Just waiting for the bus.” Martin gestured towards the stop as if Jon didn’t know perfectly well where it was.

“Right.” Jon looked distinctly uncomfortable, but at least he wasn’t glaring.

“Do…Do you have anything to shield against the rain?” Martin managed to ask. Just because his heart was still pounding didn’t mean he couldn’t be nice.

“Ah, no.” Jon shifted a bit where he stood. “I only need to make it to the tube station, but…”

“Right.” Martin considered the situation for a moment, and forced his nerves to take the back seat to his desire to be helpful. “I could walk you there? With the umbrella?”

Jon’s eyes widened like he suggested something beyond the laws of physics. “What?”

“It’s not too far and I should make it back in time for the next bus. I’m not in a rush so it doesn’t really matter which one I take, and this way we both stay somewhat dry.”

Martin was quite proud of how little his voice shook as he rambled. Jon considered the offer with the seriousness of someone contemplating elective surgery. Finally, he gave the incessant rain another look of betrayal and nodded.

“Alright. If you’re sure it won’t put you out.” He hesitated, and Martin held out the umbrella so Jon could join him under it without them having to squeeze together _too_ much. “Thank you,” Jon added.

“It’s not a problem, really,” Martin assured him. Now that they were close together he had some second thoughts about this plan, but he couldn’t very well back out. Even if Jon did smell pleasantly of paper and cloves and it was very distracting.

They started walking in silence. It felt heavy, with the weight of their earlier interaction hanging over them. Martin considered if he should bring it up in some way, make Jon less uncomfortable, but he was beaten to it.

“Martin, I want to apologize for earlier.” Jon spoke quickly, like he had to get the words out before they expired. “I–I know that can’t have been…pleasant for you. I didn’t mean to come across so aggressive, I just–”

“It’s alright, Jon,” Martin said, because of course he did. “Really. None of us are having an easy time at the moment; it’s understandable for tensions to run a bit high.”

Jon was quiet for several seconds. “Maybe. But…I’m still sorry. I may have…heard you, afterwards. From the breakroom. I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

Martin’s stomach twisted and his face heated up as all his blood rushed there to fuel his humiliation. His breakdown could be heard all the way to the kitchen? He'd tried so hard to be quiet! You'd think it came naturally to him by now, with all the practice he'd had at home.

“Oh, Jon, I’m so sorry.” The last thing he wanted was for Jon to feel guilty. He was under enough pressure already. “I really didn’t mean for anyone to hear and it wasn’t your fault, not really. I don’t always do so well with yelling and it got a bit much and I should have handled it better. I’m really sorry.”

Martin didn’t notice Jon had stopped walking until he yelped as the rain hit him. Martin rushed back a step to cover them both and eyed Jon with concern. Jon stared at him with a look Martin couldn’t quite name.

Jon wasn’t really sure of his own feelings, to be honest. All he knew was that Martin had just _apologized_ for Jon pushing him into what sounded like a panic attack, not unlike the one he’d induced back when Martin lived in the archives.

Honestly, how many times could Jon casually traumatize Martin before he learned his lesson?

“Please don’t apologize to me when I was the one out of line, Martin,” Jon managed, even if it sounded a little forced. “Even with my suspicions, I could have handled the situation better. I could have been less…cruel.”

Martin didn’t argue with him, but didn’t respond, either. They just walked for a bit. Soon they would be nearing the tube station.

“Does your hand still hurt?” Martin finally broke the silence, though this topic wasn’t exactly more preferable. “The one you… _accidentally_ stabbed?”

Jon pointedly ignored his tone. “It’s fine. Better.”

“Right.” Martin hesitated. “You’re looking after yourself, right? With your travelling and…injuries and all. You’re taking care of yourself?”

Jon stared sideways at him. “What?”

“Please don’t be offended! It’s just that we rarely see you around these days and you’ve got a lot going on so it can be difficult to talk to you, but…well, I worry. About you.”

Jon’s mind was reeling and blank at the same time. After everything that happened earlier, Martin was still concerned about Jon’s wellbeing. Was this further evidence of him being suspiciously attentive or…did Martin genuinely just care?

Yes. Yes, that might in fact be it, Jon thought.

Martin’s voice had that same nervous authenticity it held when he admitted to lying on his CV. He used that voice rather a lot with Jon, didn’t he? Because he _cared_.

Well.

That was rather a nice thought, wasn’t it?

 _No_.

No, Jon couldn’t let himself to think like that. Regardless of Martin’s intentions, Jon couldn’t afford to let his guard down. He couldn’t afford to _trust_. Not now, not when everything was so uncertain. He wasn't allowed the luxury of trust.

“I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, Martin.” Jon forced his voice to be as hard and dismissive as he knew it could be, and he sensed Martin shrink back into himself.

Jon swallowed the guilt and cleared his throat. They were close to the tube now, only a few dozen meters away from the entrance. Jon just had to keep himself from apologizing for a few more seconds.

“R-right. Of course. Um, I’m sorry for…I’m sorry.” Martin wasn’t entirely sure what he was sorry _for_ , but judging by that tone, he’d clearly messed up again. Done something wrong, pushed too far. He should know better than to be so intrusive, really.

“No, it’s…” Jon trailed off with a sigh that sounded so very tired. “Thank you for walking me here. I appreciate it.” Just like that, Jon rushed ahead and disappeared into the tube station without a goodbye, or even a glance in Martin’s direction.

And Martin, hopeless as he was, stared after him for several long minutes before finally remembering he had a bus to catch.

He barely felt the cold as he walked back to his stop, though he did manage to convince himself that the water running down his face was just the rain, somehow slipping through the umbrella.

He also missed his bus.

*

Jon didn’t mean to snoop, he really didn’t. The Institute was just so quiet and empty these days and…well, he was feeling oddly sentimental.

So, while he meant to go to the break room for tea, he ended up at Martin’s old desk. An unconnected monitor sat on it that someone probably should have taken back to IT ages ago, but otherwise the surface was empty. Jon ran his unscarred hand over it anyway.

He wondered how many of the barely visible stains were from Martin spilling his tea when Jon stormed over to chastise him over something insignificant. Martin was always so easily startled, and yet he had never spilled a single drop from any mug he ever placed on Jon’s desk. Jon didn’t even have to wonder why that was.

Martin’s focus always sharpened when he was caring for someone else. It was what he did best; he wanted everyone to feel safe and comfortable. It’s what made him feel like a part of the team, like he was contributing and earning his place. Jon didn’t have to Know any of that, he just had to remember without his stupid denial getting in the way.

Jon’s heart ached at the idea that Martin ever felt the need to _earn his place_. As if Martin’s presence wasn’t enough; as if it wasn’t more than most people even deserved.

An unexpected flash of Knowing had Jon’s hand moving to the bottom drawer of Martin’s desk with an urgency that surprised him. Was he really so desperate for anything solid to remind him of Martin?

_Yes_ , came the answer before he even had time to be embarrassed over it. Jon no longer had the energy to lie to himself, so he might as well admit it.

He opened the drawer, and his heart fluttered at the sight of the familiar bright yellow. Jon reached inside and took out the folded-up umbrella that Martin had cared enough to shelter him under. It wasn’t much, but it was Martin’s.

_I miss him._

There. With his fingers wrapped around this evidence of Martin’s kindness, Jon could finally admit it. He missed the cups of tea, the shy smiles, the gentle taps on the door to make sure Jon wasn’t startled. He missed the warm, solid hand on his elbow the few times Jon allowed himself to be comforted. He missed the unmistakable affection in Martin’s lovely eyes that, despite their brave openness, Jon had done his utmost not to notice.

A noise somewhere in the archives startled Jon out of his reverie, and he quickly retreated back to his office. The umbrella was tucked in the deep pocket of his skirt.

When it was time to leave for the night – something he rarely did anymore, but he Knew it was raining outside – he stepped into the chill evening air and let the umbrella unfold above him like a protective shield.

As he walked around in the rain, remembering the warm presence that had once walked beside him under this very umbrella, Jon allowed himself one more indulgence; one final denial to slip from its hard shell and be revealed as truth.

“I love him,” Jon whispered into the rain. “I love him, and I trust him, but I miss him so much.”

His heart felt a little lighter once the words were out. There was no one around to hold the confession over him. Only the umbrella, to keep the truth safe and dry.

*

“Where did you get this umbrella?”

Martin’s question broke the comfortable silence. They had picked up more supplies in the village and were hiking back to the cabin. A light rain started falling a few minutes ago, and Jon had produced the familiar yellow umbrella.

Normally Martin would enjoy the refreshing light rain on his skin, but the memory of the Lonely was still so vivid. This was better. Besides, having to walk arm in arm and pressed up to Jon wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

“Ah,” Jon said shyly. “I may have taken it from your old desk.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Jon cleared his throat. “I, well...”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I think I understand.” Heavens knew Martin had snuck into Jon’s office enough times when he was off on some mysterious mission. It had been comforting to see the things that Jon might have reason to come back for.

Martin’s heart did strange things at the suggestion that Jon had missed him in the same way. He wasn’t used to people caring enough to miss him like that.

“You know, I think Tim actually gave me this umbrella,” he said with forced casualness. “On our first day in the archives.”

“Oh?”

Martin told Jon the story. It left them both with nostalgic smiles, bittersweet with the knowledge of how everything turned out. But Martin wouldn’t let the hurt darken his good memories of Tim, of his warmth, energy and kindness.

“God, I was really quite terrible that day, wasn’t I?” Jon’s amused tone didn’t do much to cover his self-deprecation.

Martin tightened his grip on Jon’s arm. “Don’t do that,” he warned gently. “Torturing yourself for the past isn’t going to help and it isn’t going to change anything.”

“I know, I know. But surely I’m allowed to feel _some_ guilt over how badly I treated the man I love.”

Happiness and disbelief fluttered in Martin’s stomach at those words, and he couldn’t fight a smile. “Fine, yes, I suppose I can let you feel _some_ guilt. But that’s all you get. A minimal amount.”

“How generous,” Jon teased.

“I just think it’s much nicer to focus on the now. You’re really quite lovely without all that denial clouding your judgment.”

Jon let out a laugh that was both insulted and amused, and he leaned his head briefly against Martin’s shoulder as they walked. Martin felt like he could fly with happiness just from that small touch. That evidence of Jon’s trust and affection.

He’d spent too long thinking he would never have either.

They had just climbed the last hill and could see their cabin at the end of the road, when all at once the wind picked up with heavy gusts and the rain began to fall twice as hard as before.

The unexpected change was enough to yank the umbrella straight out of Martin’s hand. He frantically moved to catch it, but the wind carried it too fast and they were already half-soaked from the sudden exposure.

“Leave it, Martin!” Jon shouted over the wind, and the two of them ran the final distance separating them from the cabin.

They stopped by the front door, the porch roof shielding them from the plummeting drops. With Jon beside him, heaving for breath and looking like a cat offended by a sudden bath, he couldn’t help himself.

Martin started laughing.

He laughed so hard he doubled over, lungs aching and lightness bubbling in his stomach and he laughed even harder. Water trickled down his neck and dripped down his face but he just couldn’t stop.

Jon stared at Martin, watched his wet face turn red and eyes bright as he laughed almost hysterically. Jon had no idea what was so funny; he didn’t think Martin really knew, either.

But oh, the way his entire being lit up when he laughed like that.

Jon had never seen Martin like this before, all giddy and free, not afraid to be loud or take up space. Like Jon made Martin feel as safe and accepted as he made Jon feel, and wasn’t that the most beautiful thought?

Martin finally managed to stop laughing when he caught sight of Jon, staring at him with a grin and this incredible look of wonder, almost awe. Martin didn’t think he would ever get used to Jon looking at him like that. He would certainly never get tired of it.

He could stare at Jon smile like that forever, but they were both wet and would undoubtedly catch colds if they didn’t get inside and dry off. He was just about to make that point when–

“Can I kiss you?” Jon asked, and then there were no other thoughts in Martin’s mind other than _yes,_ followed by _lips, Jon, warm, kiss, safe._

They stood like that for a long, precious moment. Martin slightly hunched over, Jon standing on his toes, mouth lingering on mouth with that soft sweetness that made them both dizzy and calm all at once.

Neither of them felt sad when the moment ended; they knew many more like it waited just inside the cabin door.

Later, when they were curled up on the small sofa in dry clothes, huddled together under a soft blanket with half-empty cups of tea cooling on the table, Martin looked out the window at the still-falling rain.

“Shame about the umbrella, though,” he said wistfully.

“Yes,” Jon agreed. He could probably Know where it had blown to, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it now.

“Well, maybe we’ll see it again someday,” Martin said. “Sometime when we least expect it.”

“Hmm. Maybe,” Jon hummed. He was seconds away from falling asleep in the shelter of Martin’s arms. “When we least expect it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments joy to my heart and do wonders for my mental wellbeing, if you want to leave them ♥️
> 
> You can come shriek at me about multiple fandoms on tumblr @mx-riley and I hope you're being kind and taking care of yourself in these hard times. Did you take your meds today? 😘


End file.
